


Forge

by Rin_the_Shadow



Series: To Turn Spark [4]
Category: Transformers (Unicron Trilogy), Transformers: Armada
Genre: AU to Transformers: Armada, Allusions to PTSD, Allusions to abuse, Anxiety Attacks, Decoding Decepticon stuff, Gen, Nothing Explicitly Described, Optimus Prime looks after his men, Optimus doesn't know what happened in that episode, Optimus is a good leader, References to the episode "Rebellion", Robot Swears and Idioms, Sort of kinda canon compliant, Starscream has issues, Takes place prior to the episode "Crack", Warning for anxiety attacks, failed missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rin_the_Shadow/pseuds/Rin_the_Shadow
Summary: In the aftermath of a failed mission, Optimus Prime heads to Communications to figure out just what happened, and convinces Starscream to follow him, unaware of how similar it is to another failed mission...





	Forge

**Author's Note:**

> This fic should in theory be able to stand alone, but might make more sense if you have seen the episode "Rebellion." I will include a warning for a depiction of an abuse-related anxiety attack, though it isn't graphic.

           “Woah! Easy there, kiddo. I’m just passin’ through, then I’ll be on my way.” Optimus Prime recognized the firm but easy tone of his old mentor, Scavenger. He could easily guess what had happened even without having seen the ‘bot to whom he’d spoken.

            There was a low murmur in response. Optimus couldn’t pick out the words, but he knew what the general idea would be. _I don’t need your sympathy, Autobot_. 

            He watched Scavenger emerge from the hallway. The old veteran saw him and offered a tired smile, as if to say, “You just gotta let ‘em go at their pace. Nothin’ else you can do.” He had said as much before, when Optimus had admitted he didn’t know how to get through to the seeker.

            He had learned, somewhat. The fact that they had _had_ a conversation, however short, without any accusations being thrown and without the seeker storming away—that had said something. But even now, he could see that there was still a long way to go.

            Well, he supposed he couldn’t expect the progress he had observed before to generalize to everyone just yet. Especially since Scavenger had seen some of his abuse at Megatron’s hand. Where someone else might have seen an ally, Starscream saw someone who simply had a better idea of where to strike.

            _Especially_ after their mission earlier this week. Optimus had known it was too early, that he would refuse the combat bracing Red Alert had offered, but he had assigned him to the rescue anyway. It was an Earth mission. It _should_ have been a simple matter of getting in and getting out. The signal had been weak, and both Scavenger and Red Alert had confirmed the Decepticons would not be able to trace it from their lunar base. He had been flying off and on since the bracing was removed and nothing had happened. It _should_ have been functionally healed. But of course, Optimus should have known better than to expect everything to be as it seemed. After all, didn’t _all_ Transformers practically function on being more than meets the eye?

            There had been an attack, and in the struggle, Starscream had managed to reopen his circuit injury. Several cables had frayed, and Red Alert had performed an emergency splicing surgery.

            In hindsight, Red Alert had determined that the Decepticons had received a message from one of the stranded Mini-Cons, and in turn they had scrambled the signal to confuse the Autobots. He suspected Sideways had something to do with it. “Still, it doesn’t make sense. The Mini-Cons have been opposed to battle. To think that they would willingly signal someone who would turn them into simple weapons and slave labor…”

            “Shouldn’t you be more concerned with keeping it from happening again?” Optimus and Red Alert had turned to find Starscream at the threshold to the briefing room, spliced cables and sturdier bracing carefully disguised by the angle of his stance. A casual tone disguised a grimace as a smirk.

            Red Alert frowned. “If I could determine the type of scrambler they used, I would be doing so at this moment. But more importantly,” he had taken a step towards the door. “It’s really not good to hold your injury at that angle. At this stage, and especially with it being a compound injury, you could—”

            “ _I don’t need your fussing around, medic!_ Do you think before _you_ I sat around bleeding out?” He had taken several quick steps back, casual smirk replaced with harsh snarl and a hand that was ready to draw a sword.

            Red Alert had paused, searching for the words to explain his intent, but just as he began, the former Decepticon had stormed off.

            Though the medic had expressed concern that he would go flying before the bracing set, a comment from Alexis later that day had assured them that he had more common sense than that. Though the conversation between them had clearly been one of the more heated ones.

             It had been one of the harder weeks since then. Though no fights had broken out, more than a few conversations had escalated, and Red Alert or Scavenger had to diffuse several. Though Optimus was able to discuss the encounter with the Autobot (usually Hot Shot or Blurr), Starscream was often long gone by the time Optimus had arrived. In the few occasions where he wasn’t, he had shut down and responded with simply, “Whatever _your_ _team_ tells you is probably right.” Which had almost led to an actual fight on one occasion.

            Optimus sighed, turning his thoughts back to the present. “I’ll talk to him,” he told Scavenger. Things might go better if he didn’t have more than one Autobot at a time. Fewer sides to guard, perhaps.

            He found him not too far down the hallway Scavenger had emerged from. Perhaps he had been listening to hear what the old veteran might say, and then left once he realized there wasn’t anything.

            And of course, Primus would have it that he hadn’t thought of anything to say in that time. Still, he knew he should call out, or else he might see it as an ambush. “Hold up, Starscream,” he said. “I was just looking for you.”

            The ex-Decepticon froze, not quite turning around and almost visibly contemplating whether or not to bolt. Stiffly, he turned around, expression schooled into an exasperated stare. Optimus couldn’t help but notice the braced arm was still kept farthest from him. “Sure you haven’t got the wrong man, Autobot?”

            “As a matter of fact, I am,” Optimus replied easily. He tried to think of something to say that didn’t have to do with his injury.

            The silence stretched out for a moment before Starscream continued. “Well, now you’ve found me and confirmed that despite all efforts to the contrary, I haven’t managed to start a riot in your base. Will that be all, _Prime_?”

            He resisted the urge to correct the use of his title alone, reminding himself that although most of his men used his name, among the Decepticons, this was more common. Starscream was still adjusting to that, to shake off protocols that demanded one use the title for their superiors, if they had one. Or perhaps it was simply a habit he’d picked up from Megatron. But that was a circuit to track next cycle.

            “I’m not here to police you, Starscream,” he answered. “Though if you have anything you would like to say about your arguments with the others, you can certainly say it.”

            Optics narrowed almost imperceptibly. “What more is there you think I should say? It’s like I’ve said before. Whatever your men tell you, it’s probably right.” _Or at least more right than anything a Decepticon would tell you_.

            “That’s not a guarantee,” Optimus sighed internally. Of course, he would try this with him, too. Primus, give him patience. “And the offer still stands.” He paused, and then amended, “Though you are not required to take it.”

            A flash of confusion flickered across his expression before he caught himself. “Is that all?” A digit twitched in agitation.

            “Actually,” Optimus thought quickly. “Would you walk with me? I’m heading to the communications room.” It didn’t have to be false. He had been planning to at some point. “Red Alert and I were considering your theory from before, and we were going to test some things.” The seeker tensed. From the sparks of emotion flashing across his optics before he could quite manage to hide them, he was clearly aware of it. “You don’t have to remain once we have arrived.”

            His stance slackened marginally, but he gave a stiff nod and fell in behind him, walking so that his injured arm was still the farthest from the Autobot.

            Optimus knew Starscream wasn’t good with small talk. (When he was willing to admit it, _everyone_ at the base knew Starscream wasn’t good with small talk) Still, it seemed better to continue the conversation rather than leaving tensions to mount in silence. He knew better than to turn the conversation to the former Decepticon and his injuries just yet, but he knew one way that he wouldn’t shut everything down immediately.

            “By the way, how is Swindle adjusting?” he asked. “Sparkplug tells me he doesn’t see much of him, so I figured he probably stuck with you.”

            There was a marginal tilt of the head, which served to hide the beginnings of a smile. “Swindle is managing. If you had asked the Star Saber Mini-Cons, you might have heard more of him.”

            “I’m glad to hear it,” Optimus replied, a little surprised that he had volunteered the information on the others. The Star Saber Mini-Cons had adjusted fairly easily after Starscream had returned them to the base, and it would be good for Swindle to have that connection with them. It would have been easy to ask if he was managing as well. With anyone else, he might have done so, but he had learned the hard way that this would end the conversation _and_ their interaction faster than anything. If he wanted Starscream to adjust, the last thing he wanted was to make him shut himself up in his room, or worse, try to fly with the splice-bracing still on.

            Several times, Starscream started as if he wanted to ask something, but swallowed it back as if he already knew the answer. What the question was, Optimus wouldn’t try to anticipate. Although Scavenger had provided him with insight on multiple occasions, he had not seen what the veteran had seen, and he would not try to piece together more than absolutely necessary.

            “Is something wrong?” Optimus paused as he turned to ask, seeing averted optics and clenched digits.

            “Nothing is wrong.” His voice sounded strained, as if the words had clawed their way up his intakes. “Unless…”

            “Unless?” Optimus tried to encourage the thought.

            “ _It’s nothing_ ,” he snapped, an agitated shudder ghosting through his wings.

            _Clearly, it isn’t_ , Optimus thought, but he opted not to press the issue. _Remember how you work with Blurr_ , he reminded himself. He turned and continued. “All right. But so you know, if there is anything, you can mention it to myself or Red Alert.” Jetfire was also an option, but seeing how their previous interactions had gone, he didn’t think that was a good idea to mention just yet.

            There was no verbal reply, but he could hear the seeker still following beside him. He wished he could say something. Scrap, he knew he _should_ say something, should stop him and get him to calm down before going any further, but he also knew it wouldn’t do any good at this point. Starscream would reject the offer, and then what? By the Allspark, give him guidance.

            Ah, but of course. Now that he thought of it, it was an obvious subject. “Can I ask your thoughts on the Allspark?” For some of the Autobots, it would have been an alarmingly serious question, but for Starscream, it made sense. It was a subject he was bound to have opinions on, whatever those might be, and it would get him talking instead of remaining trapped in his own processor.

            “ _Will you just say what you’ve wanted to this whole time!_ ” The reaction was instant, a sharp rapping of a servo to a leg, glaring up at him without fully meeting his optics. “ _I don’t need you to coddle me any more than the others! So just_ say _it!_ ”

            Well, Optimus thought, stunned, that was one way to get around to it. Still, it was better not to assume. “What is it that I’m coddling you over?”

            “ _You know Prime—fragging—well what! The mission—the_ orders _—the slagging Prime-forsaken_ cables _!”_ He stepped back. _“I don’t_ know _! Just—_ ” He stepped back again and hit the wall, suddenly confused as to whether or not he should escape or drop down.

            “First of all,” Optimus held up his servos in a placating gesture. Even moments ago, he might have hesitated, but at this point, it was better for the seeker to know where they were and what he was doing. “I said everything I wanted to about the mission back in briefing, and when you were released from surgery. Believe it or not, nothing you did went against anything I had ordered. You didn’t leave your position to engage—” the fact that Starscream didn’t offer some excuse as to why told him just how serious this was “—and you could not have predicted the Minicons signaling Sideways as they did.” Granted, they didn’t _know_ it was Sideways, but it seemed better than mentioning Megatron.

            Starscream muttered something which Optimus didn’t quite catch. He tuned his audio receptors to hear better.

            “I knew about the scrambler,” he continued, voice surprisingly low. “I didn’t know they had _used it_ , but I knew it existed.”

            “That wasn’t on you,” Optimus insisted. “Even if it was, I have no intention of harming you over it. The Autobots are a team, and we don’t throw our own into the forge over things like that." He considered his next words. " _Regardless_ of what Megatron or anyone else might say to that.” He knew it was still too early to fully address it. But if he’d been expecting punishment for failure, even delayed, then that was something that needed dealing with immediately. They could go at his pace for anything else, but he needed to know he wasn't in danger.

            But Starscream had failed missions and even openly ignored orders before and nothing like this had ever happened. What had set him off with this one?

            “Do you understand that?” Optimus kept his voice even, but firm.

            They were quiet for some time after, with no sound in the hall except for the sound of intakes shuddering and evening out. When he spoke, his voice was still low, but the edge had drained out of it. “Am I supposed to answer with ‘yes?’”

            Optimus chose to take it as a no, waiting a little longer before standing and offering to continue. He’d started to give Starscream the option, but before he could finish, the seeker had cut him off with a peevish, “I’m coming.” _If I left now, Autobot, you would see me as a fleshling who needed protection_ , or something to that effect.

            He suppressed a sigh and allowed them to finish the rest of their walk in silence. When they reached the communications room, Starscream opted to excuse himself. “I agreed to accompany you here. I never agreed to put up with _him_.” He gestured to Red Alert.

            “Oh, I certainly wouldn’t ask so much, especially when you’re always out of the medical wing before I’ve finished patching you.” Was that sarcasm coming from their medic?

            “Of course not,” Optimus shook his head. “Just remember—” he started to reiterate what he’d said earlier. _We don’t throw our own into the forge_. But he caught himself. He wouldn’t like it mentioned in front of Red Alert. Better not to undo what he’d accomplished today. “—to give Swindle my regards.” He corrected himself.

            “Heh…Swindle doesn’t even like you.” Not that he liked much of anyone.

            "Of course he doesn't." Optimus turned to join Red Alert’s efforts. “So what have you figured out so far?”

            “I’ve narrowed it down to seven possible frequencies, two of which are unknown, and another of which is outdated enough that our technology no longer recognizes it. Not an _unknown_ , but an _obsolete_.” Red Alert began, gesturing to the screen where he’d isolated them. “I can’t imagine why or how, but if the Decepticons have managed—"

            “The Decepticons use a Forge 15 scrambler.” The seeker’s voice rasped from the doorway. The Autobots turned to him, startled. Of course, they’d never actually seen if he’d left. It shouldn’t have been so surprising.

            “Forge 15?” Red Alert repeated. “Are you certain?”

            Lip quirked up in a triumphant smirk. “Of course. I designed it.” There was a probing note in his tone, daring either of them to react.

            The medic gave a brief thanks, and then turned back to his calculations. “So that rules out…”

            Optimus thought to say something, but Starscream had already left. Well, whatever he had to say, he supposed it could wait. He would keep a scan out for how he was doing, but he wouldn’t press the issue unless the seeker brought it up. Unless Red Alert notified him that things took a turn for the worse. Yet for some reason, he was confident they wouldn’t.

            But in the meantime, he turned his attention back to Red Alert and the frequencies. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Red Alert, but what it sounds like is…”

**Author's Note:**

> Going back through Armada, I really feel for Optimus a lot of the time. He's wedged into a position to where he's having to make a lot of the hard decisions, and often times, can't be sure of what the right answer is due to the plethora of factors complicating it. There's also that line I mentioned in "Patrol" between being empathetic and not letting yourself get walked on.
> 
> And then of course Starscream in this one. He occasionally likes to throw wrenches in my ability to write him by being simultaneously a very private character and a very vocal one with an internal monologue that basically never shuts up.
> 
> But in any event, let me know what you think of it!  
> ~Rin


End file.
